


and all at once, you're all I want

by YaelaTheWordsmith



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, FRIENDS UR ALLOWED TO TAKE UR OWN TIME TO HEAL OK, Falling In Love, M/M, Meet-Cute, Moving On, Oikuro BFFs, Past Relationship(s), did i fall in love with my own fic version of kuroo? yes and i don't regret it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:06:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25838518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YaelaTheWordsmith/pseuds/YaelaTheWordsmith
Summary: Daichi was left bleeding years ago, and he's still trying to put himself back together. When Kuroo Tetsurou walks into his life, the process speeds up significantly - but how long might Tetsurou have to wait for Daichi to be ready for love again?
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Sawamura Daichi
Comments: 34
Kudos: 178





	1. broken bones mending

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nekoyuki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekoyuki/gifts).



> I'm so excited for this fic!!! It was requested by [nekoyuki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekoyuki), a huge huge thanks to her for giving me the absolute best kurodai story to write! 
> 
> Title from Taylor Swifts King of My Heart! This story is a soulmate au where you have a band on your wrist that glows when you're acquainted with your soulmate and it's black if you haven't met them/don't talk to them - the closer you are to them, the brighter the colour. Not all partners are soulmates, and not all soulmates are romantic, but soulmates dating is considered to be the best kind of relationship and the most likely to bring the people involved happiness.
> 
> Enjoy! ^.^

Daichi’s phone beeps in his back pocket, and he jogs to a stop as he reaches for it. _Ten laps in twenty five minutes, not bad_ , he thinks, dismissing the timer. It’s three minutes better than his time last week, and he’s hitting his stride easier every time.

He takes a minute to catch his breath, the autumn air leaving his throat cold and raw. It’s a crisp morning, soft dawn light just starting to filter through red and gold leaves, and there’s almost no one else at the park at 6:45 on Friday morning. He’d seen a few high school students jogging and a couple of elderly women chatting easily as they walked together, and that was about it. As he pats his pockets for his earphones, though, a blur of motion much further down the path catches his eye. For a second he thinks it’s a small deer or something, but as it races towards him it resolves itself into a black and white dog, her leash trailing behind her as she makes an excited bid for freedom.

Daichi automatically looks back down the path for the owner, and sure enough, there’s a figure in the distance yelling faintly as they run to catch up. The dog is about two seconds away from running right past him, so he quickly steps into her path and whistles as loudly as he can.

He almost expects her to just dodge him and go past, but she checks instantly, skidding to a stop with a startled look. He crouches and holds out a hand, whistling softer and snapping his fingers. The dog pads closer, sniffing curiously, and he manages to grab her leash. “There we go,” he says, turning his hand over and offering her his knuckles to smell. “Let’s wait for your owner to come get you, hm?”

She’s a fairly big dog, short haired with a fringed tail and the elegant build of a Dalmatian. She lets him stroke her head without any fuss, licking his wrist briefly and letting her pink tongue loll out in a grin as he chuckles.

“You’re a cutie, aren’t you?” he tells her, standing up and gripping the leash tighter as she tugs hard, evidently expecting him to join her on her run. “Hey, hey, don’t do that -”

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” the owner pants as he finally reaches them. “She’s never gotten away from me before -”

“Don’t worry about it,” Daichi says, giving him a smile as he takes the dog’s leash back.

“Thanks so much for catching her, dude,” the guy says, pushing a fringe of messy hair back from his eyes. He’s pretty tall, a grey scarf looped haphazardly around his neck, wearing a black hoodie on over dark blue tracks. “The way she ran off, I’d only have been able to catch her when she crossed me on her second lap around the park.”

“She’s definitely fast,” Daichi laughs, bending a bit to pat her again. “And it was no problem. What’s her name?”

“Miko.” The guy gives Daichi an obvious once over, a friendly, roguish grin curving his mouth. “But y’know, I’m not surprised she let you catch her, she’s always had great taste in men.”

Daichi’s gaze flicks to his, startled, but he has to laugh again when the guy waggles his eyebrows. “Is that so?” he says. “Then what’s she doing with you?”

“Ouch,” the guy laughs. “Harsh, but fair. I’m Kuroo Tetsurou, by the way. You come here a lot? I’ve never seen you before.”

“Sawamura Daichi,” Daichi replies. “And no, I’ve only been coming here for a couple of weeks.”

“Ah, okay - Miko, don’t - !” Kuroo sighs as Miko circles his legs for the third time, effectively entangling his legs in the leash. “Dumb dog. We have to get going, Sawamura-san, but maybe I’ll see you around some time?”

“Sure,” Daichi says, watching with some amusement as Kuroo tries to kick off the leash without tripping. “I’m here most weekdays.”

“Gotcha. Have a good morning!”

“Yep, you too.”

Daichi can’t help smiling as he watches them leave, Kuroo scolding Miko in an undertone while she tries to pull him over to a tree to investigate a squirrel. He figures that if they do meet again, it’ll just be by chance, but to his surprise he finds Kuroo and Miko waiting for him by the park gate a few mornings later.

“Here,” he says, handing Daichi a paper bag with two warm glazed doughnuts while Miko wags her tail frantically. “A thank you for Miko’s handsome crush.”

“Oh yeah?” Daichi raises an eyebrow, biting back a smile as he takes it. “Well, I wouldn’t want to disappoint Miko.”

Kuroo grins at him, making no effort to hold Miko back as she plants her paws heavily on Daichi’s chest, apparently torn between trying to lick his face and trying to reach the doughnuts. Daichi manages to fend her off somehow, gaining a bare minute to tear the doughnuts into equal pieces so he can share them with her and Kuroo.

“They were supposed to be a gift for you, you know,” Kuroo says, looking reluctant as he accepts his share.

“Come on, I can’t eat them both myself right in front of you two.” He tosses a piece to Miko, who snaps it neatly out of the air. “She definitely wouldn’t let me.”

“After all the trouble I went to keep her away from them in the first place,” Kuroo says, smiling a little ruefully. “Would you mind if we joined you on your run, Sawamura-san?”

“Not at all,” Daichi says, somewhat surprised. “I usually do ten laps, is that okay?”

“Sure, that’s fine.” Kuroo snags the paper bag and tosses it in the trash. “Let’s go?”

So they start off around the park together. Kuroo ends up being held behind often when Miko stops to sniff the bushes or bark at another dog, but he always catches up to Daichi without much trouble. They can't really talk much, given their pace, but the silence is a surprisingly comfortable one.

Kuroo invites Daichi to a nearby cafe for breakfast when they’re done, and Daichi accepts - Kuroo is an intriguing guy, his lazy grin and easy kind of confidence in distinct contrast to his evident and exasperated affection for his dog, and Daichi isn’t opposed to getting to know him a little better. So they sit in warm, vanilla-scented air, Miko enjoying the pieces of bacon they toss to her under the table as they talk. Daichi learns that Kuroo grew up in Tokyo, that he writes for a science journal, that he’s lived around here for a few years now, that he adopted Miko a year ago and he’s been bringing her to the park just as long.

“And you?” Kuroo says, tickling Miko’s ears absentmindedly. “You live near the park?”

“Yeah, I work at a bakery nearby. I used to be pretty sporty in high school, but I’ve kind of let myself go the past couple years, so. Trying to get back into some kind of shape, I guess.”

“Yeah? You don’t seem particularly out of shape to me.” Kuroo leans back in his chair, smiling at Daichi over the teacup cradled in his hands. “But if it means we get to see you often, I’m not complaining.”

That’s another thing about him, this flirting he keeps up. It’s easy to dismiss as teasing probably just intended to try to fluster Daichi, and that’s how Daichi does dismiss it, but Kuroo insists on paying their bill - ‘Since the doughnuts don’t count anymore,’ - and Daichi meets him the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that, always waiting for him by the park gate. Kuroo and Miko gradually become part of his routine over the course of a week or two, and Daichi can’t quite ignore the small sparkle in Kuroo’s eyes when he looks at him, when he smiles at him, when he makes him laugh.

It’s - not unwelcome. It’s honestly a soothing balm to his ego, knowing that someone finds him attractive enough to make a deliberate effort to spend time with him, and he even catches himself daydreaming about what dating Kuroo might be like during long hours spent kneading dough in the kitchen of the bakery. He’s undeniably handsome, with a careless grace to his lanky frame and a nice voice and a silver stud gleaming in one ear, and he’s easy to get along with. Morning runs start to become the highlight of Daichi’s day rather than just something he has to get over with, their breakfasts together afterwards usually leaving him in a lighter mood for the rest of the morning. Suga and Asahi are surprised and delighted when they hear about Kuroo, and clearly think that a new relationship would be good for Daichi to explore.

But when Kuroo stops him as they leave their park cafe a month later, when he says he has something to talk about, apprehension still sprouts like a tiny weed in the pit of Daichi’s stomach.

“Sure, what is it?” he says, with a fair attempt at nonchalance.

“I’ve been wanting to ask for a while, Sawamura-san.” Kuroo’s voice is perfectly calm, but Miko’s leash is twisted restlessly between his fingers. “I really like spending time with you, so - d’you wanna go on an actual date one of these days?”

_Shit, he really asked . . ._

Daichi can’t help glancing at Kuroo’s left wrist, where a black wristband lies snug against his skin. Kuroo catches the look and hooks a finger under it to tug it down, revealing a strip of pale turquoise encircling his wrist. “It’s platonic,” he says. “I’m not with anyone right now.”

Daichi thinks of his own wrist, black as ink under his watch, and his mouth twists without him meaning to. Kuroo, looking between his face and his wrist, takes it the wrong way. “Did I - I didn’t mean to overstep, if you already have someone - ?”

“I don’t.” Daichi sighs, shoving his hands deep in his pockets. “I don’t, Kuroo. I really like spending time with you, too. Just - I’m not up for anything more than a casual relationship right now.”

“By casual, you mean - ?”

“I mean that we’d go on dates, we’d hang out as often as you like, but we wouldn’t necessarily be committed to each other. If either of us wakes up one day and decides we’d like to break things off, that’s fine. Are you okay with that?”

“Sure, that’s fine.” Kuroo’s mouth curves. “So that’s a yes?”

“I guess so,” Daichi smiles back. “When do you want to go?”

***

_That weekend  
  
_

“You can always hide in my shoulder if it gets too scary, Sawamura,” Kuroo says, smirking, as they settle into their seats.

“Yes, please protect me from the scary movie, Kuroo,” Daichi says, rolling his eyes. “Whatever would I do if you weren't here.”

“I’m just saying,” Kuroo says, casually flexing biceps that are, admittedly, quite nice.

“Shut up, dumbass,” Daichi says, trying not to smile. “Look, it’s starting.”

The movie is one Kuroo picked, a recent supernatural horror release. Daichi does flinch a couple of times at the jump scares, but it’s nothing compared to Kuroo. His fists gradually clench in his lap as the movie progresses, as doors creak and blood drips down walls, and his knuckles are white when the family’s youngest kid ventures into the basement that was carelessly left unlocked. He sinks down in his seat as her screams go on and on, low enough that his knees end up higher than his face. Daichi reaches over for his hand, a little concerned, and his fingers are immediately crushed in a death grip.

Kuroo jumps badly when the demon finally shows up, bad enough that their popcorn is knocked out of the holder and spills onto the floor. “Shit, sorry,” he whispers. “I didn’t mean to -”

“It’s fine,” Daichi whispers back. “We’re almost at the interval, don’t worry about it right now.”

When the lights come on, Kuroo sweeps as much of the popcorn into the box as he can to throw away before he goes and gets them a refill and a couple of sodas. The popcorn doesn’t fall again as the movie continues, but Kuroo’s soda does when the family’s father dies gruesomely. The can is almost empty, luckily, but Kuroo freezes for a long second while Daichi sets it upright and tosses a couple of napkins on the floor to absorb the worst of the mess.

Kuroo rests his forehead against his shoulder with a quiet groan when he sits back up. “So I’ve never looked like more of a fucking idiot in my life,” he mumbles, and Daichi laughs.

“And to think I thought you were smooth when I first met you,” he murmurs back, patting his head lightly.

“I bet you don't anymore, huh.”

“Hey, it’s fine. Let’s just get through the movie, okay? And -” He can’t help grinning. “You can always hide in my shoulder if it gets too scary.”

Kuroo groans again, but he holds Daichi’s hand tighter and does, in fact, hide in his shoulder at the next jumpscare. The movie ends without any other accidents, and they’re soon standing outside under bright streetlights, Kuroo’s cheeks stained red as he apologizes again.

“In hindsight, choosing a horror movie was maybe not the best idea,” he says. “I thought I could hold it together enough to impress you, though.”

“Aww,” Daichi grins. “You were trying to impress me?”

Kuroo buries his face in his hands, and Daichi laughs, stepping closer and pulling his wrists down.

“It’s okay, Kuroo, really. It was pretty cute, actually.”

“So I haven’t completely ruined my chances of getting another date?”

“No, you haven’t,” Daichi smiles. “Text me and we’ll figure out another day, yeah?”

“Okay,” Kuroo sighs, smiling back. “It’ll be so much better than this one, I promise.”

“Yeah, this isn’t going to be hard to top.”

“You really know how to kick a man when he’s down, don’t you?”

Daichi laughs, squeezing his hands briefly before letting go. “At least I have faith you will. I’ll see you Monday morning, okay?”

The next date does go a lot better, a picnic with Miko in the park, watching the sunrise and demolishing a mountain of crepes between them as she tries to lick sweet cream off their fingers. Their third is dinner at a tiny outdoor cafe tucked away near the pier, talking hours away with mugs of tea warming their hands as their breath clouds in the air. Their fourth is taking Miko to the beach, collecting interesting shells and yelling like kids as they try to splash each other. The fifth is a night in at Kuroo’s, watching a nature documentary and arguing about the best way to cook fish as they make dinner together. The one after that is an afternoon at Daichi’s, trying to teach Kuroo to bake cupcakes, and the one after that is a snowball fight in the park, and the one after that is giving Miko a bath together, and Daichi finds that though these dates would sound like the furthest thing from romantic to anyone else, sharing them with Kuroo somehow makes them better than any fancy night out with candles and roses and music. He sets a separate ringtone for Kuroo, a randomly chosen pop song that’s been popular recently, and it takes him a week to realize he smiles automatically when it plays from department store speakers or on the radio.

Kuroo shows up at the bakery one day in the middle of February, four months and ten dates after they first met, a massive fruit smoothie in hand and Miko by his side. Suga calls Daichi out from the kitchen as soon as he introduces himself, positively gleeful at finally getting to meet Daichi’s elusive boyfriend.

“He’s such a looker, Dai,” Suga grins as Daichi walks through the kitchen door. “You didn’t tell us that!”

“Yeah, Sawamura, why didn’t you tell your friend that?” Kuroo says, leaning on the counter with a shit eating grin on his face.

“See, this is why I didn’t want you two to meet,” Daichi sighs, and Asahi gives him a sympathetic look from over by the coffee machine. “Kuroo, Sugawara Koushi, Azumane Asahi. Suga, Asahi, this is Kuroo Tetsurou.”

“And Miko,” Kuroo says, firmly pushing Miko away from the open display of cakes with his foot. “Sorry about her, she’s a glutton. Nice to meet you two.”

“She’s adorable,” Suga coos, leaning dangerously far over the counter to try and pet her head.

“Suga, careful,” Asahi says, wiping his hands before going to his usual post at the cash register. “That should work now, by the way. What can we get for you, Kuroo-san?”

“I’ll take a croissant and a vanilla latte to go, please,” Kuroo says, setting the smoothie on the counter. “This is for your hardworking baker, for when his shift is up. You up for a drive when you’re done, Sawamura?”

“Sure, I’m off in two hours.” Daichi gives him a curious look. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” Kuroo grins. “Text me, I’ll come back and pick you up.”

He gives Daichi a wink, and Daichi rolls his eyes, but he can’t help smiling as he heads back to the kitchen.

“I like him,” Asahi says, following him inside. “He seems like a good guy.”

“You saw him for like five minutes, Asahi,” Daichi says, dusting flour over his workbench.

“Still.” Asahi leans against the wall, watching Daichi roll out a lump of dough. “He clearly cares about you a lot.”

“That’s the minimum requirement to be a good boyfriend?” Daichi says dryly.

There’s silence for a minute. Nishinoya yells on the other side of the kitchen as something clatters to the ground, Hinata apologizes frantically, Ennoshita calls back over his shoulder to ask what went wrong, and Asahi purses his lips as Daichi finishes up one sheet and starts on another.

“You deserve to be happy, Dai, after everything,” is all he finally says. “I feel like Kuroo can make that happen - at least, it looked to me like he wants to try. Don’t stop him, okay?”

“Jumping the gun, Asahi.” Daichi looks up to offer him a smile. “But thanks.”

***

Tetsurou picks Sawamura up five minute after he texts, and they drive down the south highway in Tetsurou’s old sedan, windows down and Miko panting happily in the backseat. The road goes along the coast, giving them a lovely view of the sunset as they head further and further away from the city. Orange and gold light paints Sawamura’s skin as he hums along softly to the radio, the smell of fresh salt heady in Tetsurou’s lungs.

They drive in content silence for nearly an hour before turning off the road, following a track to a small cliff overlooking the ocean. The sun’s almost gone now, flooding the surface of the sea with red as the first stars come out, twinkling bright.

“This is it,” Tetsurou says, switching the car off. “Surprise picnic, I guess?”

“It’s beautiful,” Sawamura says, smiling at him in a way that makes his stomach flip. “Thanks for this, Kuroo.”

 _God, I’m falling way too fast,_ Tetsurou thinks, smiling back at him before getting out of the car and letting Miko out of the backseat. They spread a sheet out on the grass in front of the car and settle down under a thick blanket, side by side, as the sky turns to dark purple.

“How’d you find this place?” Sawamura asks, watching a seagull wheel high above them.

“My friends and I used to come here in high school to hang out.” Tetsurou settles a hand on Miko’s head as she curls up contentedly between him and Sawamura. “It’s kind of nostalgic, being back here.”

“And what kind of things did teenage Kuroo come here to do?”

The question is teasing, pulling a laugh out of Tetsurou’s chest. “Things I shouldn’t have,” he says. “I tried both weed and whiskey for the first time here - I think I threw up somewhere over there, behind those rocks, because we bought the cheapest alcohol we could find.”

Sawamura chuckles, and Tetsurou smiles. “I kissed someone for the first time here, too,” he says. “I was so bad at it.”

“Yeah?” Sawamura turns his head, his eyes dark and warm. “Are you any better now?”

Tetsurou grins, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at him. “Find out for yourself, Sawamura.”

Sawamura chuckles again, and his fingers come to rest on Tetsurou’s cheek. “Come here, then,” he says.

Tetsurou leans down with his heart pounding quietly against his ribs, watching Sawamura’s eyes close, watching his mouth tilt up -

Sawamura’s phone beeps cheerfully, and Tetsurou pauses as he groans. “Sorry,” he says, pulling it out of his pocket. “I’ll put it on silent, just let me -”

He goes still, his gaze fixed on the screen as his mouth goes tight. “Fuck,” he says, very quietly.

“Something wrong?” Tetsurou frowns a little as he scans his face. “Sawamura?”

“Nothing.” He tosses the phone aside. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s something, to make you look like this.” Tetsurou brushes his fingertips over Sawamura’s cheek, and he sighs.

“It’s - I don’t want to ruin tonight, Kuroo.”

“I don’t want you to be worrying the whole night, either.” Tetsurou lets his fingers drift upwards, running them lightly through Sawamura’s hair. “What’s wrong?”

Sawamura bites his lip, meeting Tetsurou’s gaze for a long moment, before he reaches for the phone again and unlocks it.

“I’ve wanted to tell you for a while, anyway,” he says, handing it to Tetsurou. “Just - the timing couldn’t have been worse.”

It’s a photo of Sawamura with another man on the screen, both of them smiling widely at the camera. The other man is handsome in a classic kind of way, fairly tall, neat in a business suit, his dark hair brushed back and his arm around Sawamura’s waist. Sawamura is wearing a worn T-shirt and track pants, and he’s almost glowing with happiness. They’re at an aquarium, faint patches of blue light on their clothes and faces.

It’s a Google Photos compilation, Tetsurou realizes. The date is two years ago, and the pictures are all from the same day. The first few are Sawamura and this guy at different places in the aquarium, laughing or holding hands, and then they’re at Sawamura’s house, lying in his bed together.

“Who is he?” Tetsurou asks quietly, watching the last photo - the two of them kissing, Sawamura cupping the guy’s cheek - fade away.

“My soulmate.”

Tetsurou’s eyes snap to him. He’s staring back at the dark sky, his expression unreadable as he slips his watch off so Tetsurou can see the soul band.

It’s black.

“Wait - if he’s your soulmate, why is it - ?”

Sawamura lets his hand drop. “Because he left me, Kuroo.”

It takes Tetsurou a second to process that. “Oh,” he says blankly. “Oh, shit, I’m so sorry.”

Sawamura throws an arm over his eyes, shrugging. “Can’t blame him for it, I guess. We broke up three months after those pictures were taken.”

Tetsurou reaches out for Sawamura’s hand, slipping his fingers in between his. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Sawamura exhales, long and slow. “Yeah. Yeah, there’s - not much to tell. We were together for almost four years, we met when I was twenty one and he was twenty. And it was good, it was perfect. I finally understood what all the hype around finding your soulmate was, you know? I thought - we both thought it would be forever, like the young idiots we were. But he fell in love with someone else.”

“I’m sorry,” Tetsurou murmurs, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

“Mm. I guess it was bound to happen. He was more ambitious, he joined a finance company and did incredibly well almost immediately. Me, I was content setting up the bakery with Asahi and Suga, and that always kind of frustrated him. There were other things, too, things I never saw until after he’d left. I thought it was just some kind of rocky patch at the time, but - yeah.” He chuckles, a quiet sound that’s jagged at the edges. “I - wasn’t enough, I guess.”

Tetsurou squeezes his hand, his chest aching for him. “Did he say that?”

“No, he - he told me it wasn’t my fault, that it was all on him, it wasn’t anything I did, he must have said it a thousand times. But it’s hard not to think like that, you know? To not feel like if I’d been better, if I’d been what he wanted, he wouldn’t have fallen in love with someone else - someone who was everything I wasn't. I saw the two of them in the street once, his new partner is a model. They looked really good together . . .” He trails off with a long, quiet sigh. “God, saying that out loud still hurts.”

“Do you still love him?”

“No.” Sawamura is the one who squeezes his hand, this time. “I might always care about him, on some level, but I don’t love him. Just - it was losing what we had that was - so painful. It was seeing my band go black, and thinking of everything I’d done wrong. If I’d been more patient, if I’d tried harder, if I’d listened to him more, if I - maybe if I looked different, if I looked better, if I wasn’t older than him -”

“Sawamura, you know that’s not -”

“Sorry. I know, Suga and Asahi have said it enough times. It’s - no, I don’t love him. It’s the scars that it left. I should be over it by now, I guess, but -”

“I don’t think so. It’s a hard thing to go through - especially since he was your soulmate, since it was the bond people say will always last forever. You’re allowed to take your time to deal with it.”

Sawamura moves his arm away to look at him, and Tetsurou can see tears starting to glimmer in his eyes. “I want to be, though,” he whispers. “I don’t want to see him in every man in a suit, I don’t want to remember him when I cook breakfast alone, I don’t want to remember how it felt to kiss him because a stranger who wears the same perfume passed me on the road. It’s been nearly two years now, how much longer do I have to - fuck. I’m sorry.”

Tetsurou shifts to lean over him as he turns his face away. “Hey,” he murmurs, bending so their foreheads rest together. “Can I call you Daichi?”

“What?” He smiles a little as he looks back at Tetsurou, a faint, uncertain thing. “Sure, I guess.”

Tetsurou lowers his head to kiss him, soft and careful, and Daichi’s mouth opens for him like a slowly blooming flower. He pulls back after a minute or so, cupping his cheek and brushing a tear away.

“I’m so sorry he did that to you,” he says quietly. “You didn’t deserve that, Daichi. I know we haven’t known each other all that long, but - I want to be there for you, if you’ll let me. I want to prove to you that you’re a great person, that you were more than worthy of his love. That he was a fucking idiot for letting you go.”

Daichi lets out a choked laugh, putting his own hand over Tetsurou’s. “Thanks, Kuroo. I don’t know how you’ll do that, but no one will be happier than me if you do.”

“Tetsurou is fine, if you want,” Tetsurou says, kissing his forehead. “And I’ll figure it out, don’t worry.”

“Thanks for listening, too. I didn’t mean to bring it up today, I didn’t want to ruin -”

“Don’t worry about that, idiot. Hey, come here.” Tetsurou lies back down and pulls Daichi into his chest, wrapping an arm around him as he rests his head on Tetsurou’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. I’m glad you told me.”

Daichi hums quietly, settling a hand on the curve of Tetsurou’s ribs, his thumb stroking back and forth.They’re quiet for a few minutes, the ocean breeze ruffling their clothes gently. Miko lifts her head to yawn, her teeth gleaming briefly in the faint moonlight.

“Daichi?”

“Hm?”

“Was this why you said it had to stay casual if we started dating?”

“Yeah. I don't feel ready for a serious relationship, after everything that happened. Is that - okay?”

“Of course that’s okay.” Tetsurou hugs him a little tighter, kissing his hair. “I’ll be right here for you either way.”

***

_Later that night  
  
_

Daichi sinks down onto his bed with a sigh, rubbing his forehead. When he pulls his phone out to charge it, the screen is lit up with texts from his group chat with Suga and Asahi.

  
**Suga** (10:20 PM)  
_How romantic was it on a scale of 1 to 10  
_ _It was a 10 right  
_ _Did it go awesome  
_ _Did you guys smooch  
_ _Did you get handsy  
  
_

**Asahi** (10:24 PM)  
_Suga, come on  
  
_

**Suga** (10:26 PM)  
_What it's a legitimate question!!  
  
_

Daichi sighs again, typing out a reply.  
  


**Daichi** (11:07 PM)  
_It was like a 9  
_ _Then I told him about Haru . . .  
  
_

**Asahi** (11:07 PM)  
_Oh shit  
_ _Are you okay? How did it go?  
  
_

**Daichi** (11:08 PM)  
_He was great about it  
_ _It went okay  
_ _I’m fine  
  
_

**Suga** (11:09 PM)  
_Ah fuck  
_ _Glad to hear he was chill or I would’ve beaten his face in  
_ _Call us if you need Dai_

  
**Daichi** (11:10 PM)  
_Lol  
_ _Thanks :) I’m gonna head to bed now, we can talk tomorrow  
  
_

**Asahi** (11;11 PM)  
_Okayy, sleep well  
  
  
_

**Suga** (11:11 PM)  
_Night! <3_  
  


He plugs his phone in and gets ready for bed. When he’s curled up in the dark, though, all he can think about is _I want to prove that you were more than worthy of his love._

Tetsurou means well, he knows, and he’s grateful for the sentiment, but god knows he’s been trying to convince himself of the same thing for long enough. It’s still all too easy to remember the day he saw Haru with his new boyfriend; he’d been heading home after a tiring shift, hoping to get home before it started raining, when his soul band had tingled. He’d ripped his watch off, hope and anxiety warring in the pit of his stomach, and the band had been glowing bright blue. He’d looked around for Haru frantically, not knowing if he wanted to talk to him or run as far in the opposite direction as he could, and had finally spotted him walking up the street on the other side - with a slender young man on his arm, his dark head bent to catch his words, laughing at whatever he’d said.

It had ripped through him all over again, the searing pain of his world being shaken to its foundations in a single, split second - the guilt in Haru’s eyes the day he’d left, how quietly he’d said, “I’ve found someone else,” how Daichi’s hands had been shaking in his lap as Haru had sworn he hadn’t cheated, sworn it hadn’t been Daichi’s fault, that he’d just fallen in love with someone else. “Go, then,” Daichi had whispered, still not really believing what was happening, and Haru had left a month’s rent on the table and walked out with a bag in each hand, and Daichi had slammed the door behind him and cried until his chest had gone raw and empty and the band on his wrist had gone black.

And then maybe a month later he’d seen Haru with his new boyfriend, a young man with perfect features and a charming smile, wearing a cream sweater that matched his complexion perfectly and with hair dyed cherry blossom pink, looking up into Haru’s smiling eyes -

\- _he used to smile at me like that, he used to **only** smile for me like that -_

\- and Daichi had turned away blindly to be met with his own reflection in a store window. Twenty five with grey already creeping into hair he’d always kept cropped short, his cheeks filled out a little because setting up the bakery had taken up so much time and energy he hadn’t been able to keep up with his regular runs, plain and short and unremarkable, his fists clenched tight in the pockets of the ratty hoodie Haru had always told him to get rid of because _Red isn’t really your colour, Daichi._

He’d gone right back to the bakery, yanked Asahi out from behind the register, and collapsed into his chest in tears. Suga, bless him, had closed early so the both of them could sit with him and hold him as he cried. He’d played the memory of it in his head so many times afterwards, over and over again through the months that followed, until finally the sting went out of it. The way Haru had smiled at someone else in the street, though, like he didn’t even know how thoroughly he’d crushed Daichi’s heart, that’s something he’ll never be able to forget.

And now here’s Tetsurou, offering to stand by him like Suga and Asahi have done for so long, promising to prove that he deserves more than Haru had given him - and Haru had given him more than almost four years of light and affection, before it had all gone bad.

He can’t, Daichi already knows - but for the first time in a long time, he’s starting to remember what it’s like to love and to be loved. So if he wants to try, Daichi’s going to be the last one to stand in his way.

 _And if that makes me a selfish bastard, well,_ Daichi thinks, hugging his pillow tighter, _I guess that’s what I am._


	2. body and soul

Through March, Tetsurou starts to pick up on all the signs he’s been missing until now. Daichi tends to catch himself when he says something sharper than usual in response to Tetsurou’s ribbing, always apologizing with a quick smile no matter how much Tetsurou tells him there’s nothing to apologize for. He doesn’t look in the mirror much, even when he’s getting ready to go out for an evening. He’s a little self-conscious about his body, his clothes are always on the looser side, and he never misses his run at the park unless he has an early shift at the bakery. He always checks that the strap of his watch isn’t loose enough to slip when he puts it on. When Tetsurou compliments him, he tends to wave it off like he’s just saying it to be nice. When Tetsurou is frustrated or upset about something, he asks about it with genuine care, encourages him to talk with compassion, but there’s always a hint of anxiety in the back of his eyes that never really goes away.  
  
It would’ve been enough to make Tetsurou completely determined to follow through on his promise if he wasn't already, but he doesn’t really know what would work, how to do it when they’re supposed to be nothing more than casual boyfriends. So he starts with quick kisses on the cheek when they meet, with casual pats on the shoulder, with surprise hugs from behind when Daichi doesn’t expect it. This gets him startled laughs and faint blushes, and Daichi’s smiles start to get softer, warmer. He doesn’t like being too affectionate in public, so the most Tetsurou can do when they visit cafes and ramen shops is knock their ankles together under the table and give him the most flirty grins he can manage. They take half a Saturday to visit a beautiful shrine on a nearby hillside, though, and he pulls him into the shelter of a small, sheltered grove to kiss him, deep and thorough, until they’re both a little drunk on the taste of each other. Daichi doesn’t let go of his hand for most of the rest of the day, and that’s the first night that he asks (hesitantly, like he’s expecting to be turned down) if he can spend the night at Tetsurou’s.  
  
The hug he gets in response nearly leaves him gasping for breath. Tetsurou wakes up the next morning with Daichi’s fingers combing gently through his hair and Miko’s tail tickling his calves, and he can’t think of a single place he’d ever rather be than here.

April is sakura season, which means longer walks with Miko in the park, more baking of spring-themed sweets, more time spent lying amidst wildflowers and watching the clouds go by. They go out to lunch one weekend with Tetsurou’s soulmate, who’s apparently been dying of curiosity for months now. When he walks in, stylish in dark jeans and a tan trench coat over pale blue flannel, Daichi’s throat goes tight for a second. He reminds him of Haru’s new boyfriend, even though they’re nothing alike physically. Oikawa Tooru is taller, broader in the shoulders, and his hair is dark brown, but there’s still something about him, some intangible air of cultivated beauty in the perfect curve of his smile that reminds Daichi of the pink-haired young man.  
  
The illusion shatters the second he opens his mouth, because he turns out to be just as much of a little shit as Tetsurou, and they manage to spend the whole time that their food takes to arrive snarking goodnaturedly at each other. When he speaks to Daichi, though, he takes pains to set Daichi at his ease and make sure he’s comfortable in the conversation, which is something Daichi appreciates. Daichi learns that they met on the first day of college, took one look at each other, and agreed that their bond would be platonic.  
  
“I certainly didn’t want to date a skinny rake like Tettsun,” Oikawa says, tilting his nose up in an exaggerated gesture.  
  
“I certainly didn’t want to date a flirty bastard like Tooru,” Tetsurou mimics, and both Daichi and Oikawa laugh.  
  
“Flirty bastard is fair,” he says, twirling a fork in his spaghetti. “So, Sawamura-san, Tettsun tells me you work at the Tsubasa Bakery downtown? I’ve been there a couple of times, you guys really make the best pastries.”  
  
By the end of the meal, Daichi has gone from Sawamura-san to Sawa-chan, and Oikawa gives him a graceful half hug when they get up from their seats.  
  
“I approve of him entirely,” he tells Tetsurou, before smiling at Daichi. “Take care of my soulmate, okay? Miko-chan can’t watch his lanky ass all the time.”  
  
“I’ll be sure to,” Daichi smiles back, and both of them pretend not to see the faint pink in Tetsurou’s cheeks.

May is spring turning to summer, and it brings movie theatre dates to catch summer releases, sleeveless shirts and popsicles filling their freezers, and runs in the park earlier in the morning, when the grass is still wet with dew. Tetsurou’s cakes have improved a lot, and he bakes as often as he can manage, just for the pleasure of seeing Daichi enjoy eating something he hasn’t made himself.  
  
“Bet you can’t do four,” Tetsurou grins on a day his cupcakes have turned out particularly well, swinging his legs as he sits perched on Daichi’s flour-spattered kitchen counter.  
  
“Watch me,” Daichi shoots back, already plucking the still warm cupcakes from their molds. He fits three in his mouth easily, and the fourth is a bit of a squeeze but he manages it. He gives Tetsurou a triumphant look, his cheeks bulging, and Tetsurou actually has to press his hands to his mouth to stop himself from laughing in delight.  
  
“Fuck, you’re so cute,” he says. “C’mere, c’mere, I wanna take a photo -”  
  
Red blooms on Daichi’s cheeks, and he shakes his head hard, struggling to chew and swallow so he can speak. Tetsurou laughs again, loud enough that it rings through the small kitchen, and drags Daichi forward by the wrist so he’s standing between Tetsurou’s knees.  
  
“So cute,” he says again, and kisses his cheeks twice in quick succession. Daichi makes a muffled sound, trying to cover his face with his arms, but Tetsurou wrestles them apart, peppering messy kisses all over his face.  
  
“ _Tetsurou_ ,” Daichi gasps when he can finally speak. “You _asshole_ -”  
  
Tetsurou shuts him up with a kiss, smiling against his mouth as he pulls him closer and squeezes his waist, and Daichi melts against him slow and easy, the way chocolate melts on your tongue.

June is when they become Dai and Tetsu, when the popsicles run out and they haunt ice cream parlours to keep the heat at bay, when they start bathing Miko every few days so she doesn’t spend all her time panting under Tetsurou’s bed. They go to the mall one afternoon because Tetsurou needs new clothes, rifling through racks of clothes together to find things that suit him.  
  
“What about this one?” Tetsurou holds up a grey and blue shirt with long sleeves.  
  
“That looks good,” Daichi says, looking through a pile of jeans. “What’s your waist size?”  
  
“ . . . I have no clue.”  
  
Daichi gives him a look, and he shrugs sheepishly. “Try these, then,” Daichi says, tossing two pairs at him.  
  
“Thanks,” Tetsurou says, catching them. “Oh, hey, look at this! It would look good on you.”  
  
Daichi only glances at the dark red button down he’s pointing to before turning away dismissively. “We’re here for you, not for me. And red doesn’t suit me, anyway.”  
  
Tetsurou still drops it in his hands, pulling him with him to the dressing room. “What are you talking about? Red looks great on you. Come on, try it on.”  
  
“Tetsu -”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
Daichi's protest dies on his lips at Tetsurou's raised eyebrow. “Nothing,” he says, smiling. “Sure, I’ll try it on.”  
  
It does look good on him, and he ends up buying it.

July brings more evenings spent at the beach, more time spent hunting around the city for cat cafes with the fluffiest cats, more time lazing together on the couch as they flip through Tetsurou’s impressive collection of documentaries. Tetsurou has his feet in Daichi’s lap one Sunday evening, his legs stretched across the couch and his hands crossed behind his head as he tries to think of cutesy nicknames that Daichi might agree to.  
  
“Cutiepie.”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Darling.”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Sweetie.”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Sweetheart.”  
  
“That’s basically the same thing.”  
  
“Honey.”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Honeypie.”  
  
“Ew, no.”  
  
“Angel.”  
  
“Nope.”  
  
“Sugar.”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Tiger.”  
  
“Tetsurou, come on -”  
  
“Dai-chan.”  
  
“You already call me Dai.”  
  
“Babycakes?”  
  
Daichi gives up on watching the documentary playing on Tetsurou’s TV entirely in favour of grabbing a handful of popcorn and tossing it into Tetsurou’s mouth. A couple of pieces get stuck in his throat and he chokes, rolling to the edge of the sofa to cough. Daichi watches him the whole time like a lepidopterist who’s found a particularly interesting species of butterfly, and Tetsurou kicks him in the thigh when he’s caught his breath.  
  
“You could have at least tried to give me a Heimlich or something!” he says accusingly.  
  
Daichi grabs his ankles and pulls him towards him, hard. Tetsurou yelps, scrabbling for purchase on the back of the couch, and Daichi grabs his wrists and pins them down easily.  
  
“I can live with baby, I guess,” he says, conversationally, like he hasn’t just sent Tetsurou’s pulse rocketing through the roof. “Anything else, and I’ll choke you myself, forget about giving you a Heimlich. Now shut up and watch the documentary you picked.”  
  
Tetsurou realizes his mouth is hanging open, and snaps it shut. “Thanks for helping me find out I have a thing for getting manhandled,” he says, and Daichi bursts out laughing.  
  
“You’re welcome, honey,” he says, with a wink that Tetsurou had no fucking clue he was capable of.  
  
“Oh god.” He covers his face with his hands, his cheeks burning against his palms. “Oh my _god_.”  
  
Daichi laughs again, patting his knee. “You’re much more easily flustered than you seem like you’d be, huh?”  
  
“Please retry your request when Tetsurou.exe has resumed operations,” Tetsurou mumbles, and Daichi kisses the back of his hand, tugs him upright, and keeps his arm around his waist for the rest of the movie.

August is the tail end of summer, and it brings longer drives down the coast road, competing with each other at the rundown arcade by the park, nights spent sleeping with their legs tangled together and their shirts tossed into the corner of the room. They go to a summer festival together with Miko, dressed in yukata dug out from the back of Daichi’s cupboard. Tetsurou’s is a little too short for him, and Daichi’s is faded, but they don’t really care. They wander through the chattering crowd hand in hand, trying to beat each other at every other game stall and buying heaps of steaming food until they’re stuffed.  
  
Miko tries to snap at the fish swimming in the small goldfish scooping pool, and eats all the fallen caramel apples she finds, and lets children pet her with her tail gently waving. When the fireworks start up she barks at them, and then jumps on the bench between Daichi and Tetsurou, breaking their kiss with her wet nose. They try and fail to be angry at her, and end up leaning against each other while she sits curled between them, petting her as the night sky blooms blue and green and silver.

September brings fewer dates, because Tetsurou has been promoted and has a heavier workload now, but there’s still hot chocolate at their breakfast cafe and nights spent cooking simple dinners together and brief phone calls every day that they can’t meet. Daichi stays half an hour late in Tsubasa Bakery’s kitchen some afternoons, baking tarts and small pies to drop off at Tetsurou’s place before he heads home, because he knows Tetsurou loses track of time easily when he works.  
  
It’s on one of those evenings that Daichi finds the door unlocked, and steps inside to see Tetsurou slumped over his desk and snoring quietly, his cheek pressed to his keyboard.  
  
“Look at him,” Daichi says softly to Miko, leaving the bakery boxes on the table before gently pulling Tetsurou’s glasses off his face and setting them aside. “Your stupid owner fell asleep on his laptop.”  
  
Miko gives him an inquiring look, her ears flicking upright, and he smiles, crouching to pet her where she’s sitting in her basket. “Good girl. I’m gonna let myself out, okay? Make sure he doesn’t stay up late working tomorrow.”  
  
She flops over onto her side, eyes closing in bliss as he scratches behind her ears. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he tells her, getting to his feet. He looks back at Tetsurou, and can’t help going over to kiss the top of his head, carding a hand through his hair.  
  
“Night, Tetsu,” he murmurs, watching his back rise and fall for a minute before turning to leave.  
  
_God, I’ve fallen way too deep_ , he thinks with a tender kind of desperation, looking up at the sky as the front door clicks shut behind him. _And I don’t know if I should be terrified or delighted._

October brings the anniversary of the day they first met, it brings a cold snap to the air and the park trees starting to look skeletal against grey skies - and it finds Tetsurou finally, finally screwing up the courage to tell Daichi that he’s fallen in love with him, that he probably fell the day he smiled that lovely, warm smile at Tetsurou as he handed him Miko’s leash.  
  
He chooses a night that they’re at Daichi’s house, relaxing with a movie and takeout rather than cooking. He’s spent most of the last week working on a fairly high profile piece, and Daichi had suggested tonight as a well-deserved break before he goes back to edit it and send it to his boss. So they’re sitting together on Daichi’s sofa, the end credits of the first Avengers movie scrolling up the TV screen as Daichi starts to gather up their plates. “Pass me your glass, would you?” he says casually, and god, it’s like they’ve been living together forever.  
  
Tetsurou takes a long, long breath, and turns to face him. “I want to talk to you about something, Dai.”  
  
Daichi gives him a curious look, setting the plates back down. “Sure, what is it?”  
  
“I, um -” Tetsurou laughs nervously. “Shit, my heart’s beating so fast.”  
  
Daichi leans forward to press a gentle hand to the left side of his chest. “It is,” he murmurs. “What’s wrong, Tetsu?”  
  
Tetsurou puts his own hand over his, keeping it there, and looks down at the sofa. “We’ve been dating for nearly a year now.”  
  
“We have.”  
  
“And . . . I haven’t wanted to date anyone else. I don’t think you have either.”  
  
“ . . . I haven’t, no.” Daichi’s voice is quieter, like he’s realized where this is going.  
  
‘So - I remember what you said, that this needs to stay casual, but -” He forces himself to meet Daichi’s eyes, smiling a little helplessly. “But I’ve been in love with you for so long now, and I can’t really imagine my life without you in it anymore. I know how much what happened with Haru hurt you, and I - Daichi, I can’t promise you forever, no matter how much I want to, but I swear I’ll do everything I can to give it to you. I want to, more than anything. So would you -”  
  
The words die in his throat as he sees Daichi swallow hard, as he realizes what the answer is going to be.  
  
“I had what was supposed to be perfect, before,” Daichi says. “And it collapsed like a house of cards, before I even knew what was happening, before I even realized what I'd done wrong.”  
  
“Don’t say that,” Tetsurou says instantly. “That wasn’t your fault, Daichi -”  
  
“And then I met you, and you were so good to me, but - I’ve had you for so long, and I still haven’t managed to move on from it. I’m damaged goods, Tetsu.”  
  
“You’re _not_ -”  
  
“And I’m scared.” His voice is soft, shaking just a little. “I’m so, so scared. I don’t want to break this too, to wake up one day and find you gone. You’re - you’re amazing, you’ll find the person you’re really meant to spend your life with someday -”  
  
“ _Don’t_.” Tetsurou’s voice breaks. He takes a breath, clears his throat, swallows his own tears. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re that person. But if that’s - if that’s what your decision is, I’ll respect it.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Daichi whispers. His fingers are tight in Tetsurou’s shirt. “I’m so sorry.”  
  
Tetsurou grasps his wrist and gently pulls his hand away. “I get it,” he says quietly. “It’s okay. I’m - I’m going to leave, okay? I need some time.”  
  
“Yeah,” Daichi says, just as quietly, and his gaze is heavy on Tetsurou’s back as he leaves the apartment.  
  


***  
  


_Four days later  
  
_

“So you’re done?”  
  
“Yeah, the boss just sent back the final version.” Tetsurou yawns, shutting his laptop. “It’s going to be uploaded at midnight.”  
  
“Good work, Tettsun.” There’s a rustling from the end of the line, like Tooru is shuffling through a sheaf of paper. “How’s it been with Sawa-chan, by the way?”  
  
Tetsurou sighs, falling back into his pillow. “Uh, weird. We haven’t spoken since then, and our texts are weird too. He sent one the night after apologizing again, and I said it was fine, and it’s been kinda stilted since then. It feels like he’s forcing himself to stay in touch, I don’t know.”  
  
“Mm, he’s probably terrified he’s messed things up with you for good. Let him know you want to go back to how things were, why don’t you?”  
  
“But I -” Tetsurou pinches the bridge of his nose, a familiar, cold sadness creeping into his chest. “I don’t, Tooru. We’re so much a part of each other’s lives, but he still won’t let me take that last step. I hate this, being stuck not being able to tell him and show him how much I really care. I get how Haru hurt him, I really do, but him thinking that I could do the same thing hurts too, you know?”  
  
“Well, you could,” Tooru says, sounding unimpressed.  
  
Tetsurou sits upright, a spark of anger flaring to life in the middle of the sadness. “Excuse me?”  
  
“You could, Tettsun. You told him that, right? That you couldn’t promise him forever. A thousand things could happen to drive you two apart.”  
  
“ . . . Fine, okay, but that applies to everyone, even romantic soulmates. If everyone worried about what could possibly go wrong, about cheating or death or disease, no one would ever have a partner.”  
  
“But it’s different for Sawa-chan, isn’t it? He never got an explanation for why his ex fell out of love with him. There isn’t really one, I guess, but what makes it worse is that they had what sounds like a pretty healthy and happy relationship. So he was stuck thinking through the last months of their relationship over and over again afterwards, searching for a reason for what happened, when there probably wasn’t anything he really did wrong. There weren’t any bitter fights or slamming doors or shouting matches, the guy just left because he stopped loving him, and he can’t blame him for doing that. What’s the only conclusion he can come to? That something is fundamentally wrong with him as a person, as a partner, that made his ex leave - that despite doing everything right, he still wasn’t enough. And I know his friends and you told him that isn’t true, and I’m sure he tells himself that too, but I imagine it’s not an easy thing to unlearn.”  
  
“I know this, Tooru -”  
  
“So now,” Tooru continues, ignoring him, “he has this new guy who clearly likes him, who stuck around for a year before asking him if they can be committed to each other, because he loves him. And suddenly he has to decide, and he’s obviously terrified because his ex taught him that he doesn’t have to do _anything_ wrong for you to leave. So when you told him you love him, of course he turned you down. He doesn’t have a shred of evidence to tell him that his heart won’t get broken exactly the same way as before, except you promising to be there for him - which he probably desperately wants to believe - but the risk of that promise failing is too big for him to take.”  
  
Tetsurou stares blankly at the wall opposite. “Shit.”  
  
“Exactly. What would you have done if you were him?”  
  
“ . . . I don’t know.”  
  
“Yeah. That’s the kind of impossible position he’s stuck in.” Tooru sighs, like he’s stretching. “At least, that’s what I think is going on. I could be completely off.”  
  
“You’re fucking never off about things like this,” Tetsurou says, smiling a little. “It’s one of your most annoying qualities.”  
  
Tooru chuckles. “Can’t help that. You need to give him more time, Tettsun. It’s not easy to abandon the kind of fear he’s had to live with for so long, no matter how many people tell him he doesn't need to be afraid. And you can’t force him to. Unless he makes the decision to try to move past it on his own, it’s always going to eat away at him. You know that he loves you just as much as you love him, right? So remember that, and stay as close by him as he lets you.”  
  
“Do I know that, though?” Tetsurou runs a hand through his hair, biting his lip. “All I know is that his fear is greater than how much he cares about me.”  
  
Tooru clicks his tongue, a sharp, irritated sound. “It’s not like putting weights on a scale, idiot, like ‘Oh, if he loved me more than he was scared, he’d have said yes’. I know it feels like he rejected you because he doesn’t care as much as you do, but it’s not that simple. Anyone with eyes can see how much he loves you - and that's probably what makes his fear of losing you a thousand times worse.”  
  
“Fuck,” Tetsurou sighs. “You’re right. Sorry.”  
  
Tooru’s voice softens. “I know it’s tough for you, too. But if you want to be with him, you need to be patient. Show him that you’ll stay as long as it takes. Maybe bring this conversation up again a few months down the line, if you feel like he might respond better, but don’t pressure him. If I know him at all, he’ll jump into your arms the second he feels secure, and you'll thank me tearfully for my sage advice. But you can’t set a timeline for him to work through his issues.”  
  
“Sage advice, my ass,” Tetsurou snorts, but he can’t help smiling. “But thanks, Tooru. Talking to you really helped.”  
  
“Of course it did,” Tooru says, and Tetsurou can hear him grinning. “So go get your man back, yeah?”  
  
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll talk to you later.”  
  
Tooru makes an exaggerated kissy noise in response. Tetsurou cuts the phone with something between a sigh and a chuckle, and he’s about to go give Miko her dinner when his phone buzzes with a text.

 **Dai** (10:05 PM)  
_Hey, just remembered your article is going up tonight. You worked so hard and did a great job, I’m sure it’ll get a great response :) Get more than four hours of sleep tonight, okay?_

Tetsurou stares at the message for a whole ten seconds before he grins broadly, his heart lighter than it’s been in days.  
  
“Hey, Miko!” he yells. “Guess what, he remembered that it was today!”  
  
There’s the approaching clatter of claws, and Miko pokes her head into his room, giving him a look that says _What’s the emergency?_  
  
Tetsurou crouches down and kisses the top of her head soundly, holding her face between his hands. “So much for casual,” he laughs. “He really does care, doesn’t he?”  
  
Miko stares at him. _Of course he does. Can I get my dinner now?_  
  
“Yeah, yeah,” he grins, letting her go. “We’re gonna go see him tomorrow, okay? And we're going to fix this.”  
  


***  
  


“Coming,” Daichi calls, hastily rubbing his hair dry as he hurries to the front door and pulls it open - and almost drops the towel. Tetsurou is standing outside with Miko by his side, and she pounces on Daichi’s legs instantly, whining happily. He fends her off halfheartedly as Tetsurou grins down at him.  
  
“Tetsu,” he manages to say past the beat of his heart in his ears. “Hi.”  
  
“Hey, Dai.” He holds up a large shopping bag. “You were talking about maybe trying pasta for dinner one night, right? Wanna make a celebratory dinner for my article being posted?”  
  
“Uh, sure.” Daichi steps aside to let him inside, wondering what’s going on, where they stand.  
  
Tetsurou acts like things are normal though, keeping an easy flow of conversation going as they cut vegetables and boil water together, and Daichi finds himself relaxing without meaning to. They put on some trashy reality show to watch as they eat, criticizing the contestants as they make one bad decision after another, Daichi laughing and kicking Tetsurou’s shin gently as he cracks terrible jokes that have become familiar by now.  
  
It’s after they’ve finished both the pasta and the ice cream, after Tetsurou’s favourite contestant got kicked off the show and threw a fit so hysterical that they switched the TV off, after the conversation has faded to comfortable silence for a good few minutes, that Tetsurou finally brings up the last time they’d spoken.  
  
“I understand why you said what you did, Dai,” he says, hugging his leg and resting his chin on his knee. “At least, I think I do. But I’d rather keep this than lose what we have entirely. Is that okay?”

Daichi nods slowly. “Of course. I just - I don’t want you to have to keep waiting for something I don’t know I’ll be able to give you.”  
  
“Don’t worry about that,” Tetsurou says, and Daichi can see he means it. “If this is what you can give me, this is what I’ll take. It’s fine.”  
  
_I want to give you everything,_ Daichi almost says. _I want to see you and Miko every day, I want you to hover annoyingly over my shoulder when I’m cooking every day, I want so much with you, but -_  
  
“Am I worth that, Tetsu?” he says softly.  
  
“You are.” Tetsurou reaches out to rub a light thumb along the curve of his cheek. “To me, you are.”  
  
Daichi has to close his eyes for a second as a lump settles in his throat. “Okay,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry.”  
  
“Hey, it’s okay.” Tetsurou shifts closer to him, slipping an arm around his shoulders. “I’m all grown up, I can handle it.”  
  
Daichi has to laugh. “I missed you,” he says, resting his head on his chest.  
  
“I missed you too. I’m not going anywhere anymore, okay?”  
  
Daichi hums quietly. Tetsurou is warm against him, his hand stroking his shoulder slowly, and he rests his chin on top of Daichi’s head with a quiet sigh, Miko lying contentedly at their feet.  
  
Daichi never feels safer than when Tetsurou is holding him like this. He never feels happier than when he hears Tetsurou’s voice floating through to the bakery kitchen and realizes he’s come to see him. He never has more fun than when he teases Tetsurou for burning yet another cake, when they compete to get the biggest stuffed toy at festival stalls, when Miko barrels into them and makes them fall on top of each other when she’s trying to escape her dreaded bath. Everything they’ve done together, from the long drives to the cafe dates to routine runs in the park, they’re all memories that are stark in their vibrancy when he compares them to his life before. Tetsurou has managed to bring so much colour into his days almost from the moment they’d met, and the only thing he’d asked for was to be allowed to be closer to him, to do more for him.  
  
And Daichi hasn’t even been able to give him that. He wants to, he wants to so badly he can almost taste it, but the sound of his apartment door closing behind Haru still manages to hold him back. The guilt of it has been enough that he'd had trouble going to sleep for the past four nights, that he'd wondered if he’d successfully ruined everything they have in a single conversation, that he’d hesitated every time he typed out a text to Tetsurou because it felt like he was running the risk of hurting him even more.  
  
But he’s here. He’s here, and telling Daichi he’s worth sticking around for, that he’s not going to leave.  
  
_Fuck_. He presses his face into Tetsurou’s neck, his eyes shut tight against his warm skin. _God, what did I do to deserve him_?  
  
Tetsurou stirs against him after a while, kissing his hair. “Dai?”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“We better get going, it’s getting late.”  
  
“Ah, yeah, sure.”  
  
Tetsurou pecks his cheek lightly as he sits up, giving him a last grin. Daichi watches him snap his fingers at Miko and walk to the genkan, watches him reach for his coat. If he lets himself, he can pretend that Tetsurou lives here, that his grey scarf always hangs by the door next to Miko’s leash, that their shoes sit on the rack side by side, that his clothes are in Daichi’s closet and his toothbrush is in the same cup as Daichi’s -  
  
_So what’s stopping that from happening?_  
  
Daichi goes very still, his gaze fixed on Tetsurou shrugging his coat on. It’s like he’s moving in slow motion, like the thought has shut Daichi’s brain down and started it up again in a fraction of a second.  
  
He could really have this. He could see Tetsurou every single day, he could have him and Miko living with him here, he could have Tetsurou trying to sneak wind-chilled fingers under the back of his shirt when they come home together, he could wake up to his smile, he could have an entire life with Tetsurou right _now_ if he wanted to. The only thing stopping him is his fear of losing Tetsurou’s love, and it’s hitting him like a battering ram, now, that letting that fear control him means that he’ll never fully have Tetsurou’s love in the first place, that he’ll never let himself love Tetsurou fully either.  
  
_Didn’t I use to be braver than this? Before Haru?_  
  
And _that_ thought sends him vaulting over the back of the couch, almost scrambling to get to the door.  
  
“Tetsu! Tetsu, wait -”  
  
Tetsurou turns back, startled, and just barely manages to drop Miko’s leash in time to catch Daichi as he cannons into him.  
  
“Dai?” he says, sounding a little winded, settling steadying hands on Daichi’s shoulders. “What -”  
  
“I take it back,” Daichi says, looking up at him with his throat so tight he can hardly get the words out. “I take it all back - five years, five months, five days, I’d want you even if you were going to leave tomorrow, I’ve wanted everything with you for so long now. I’m sorry I was such a fucking idiot, I -”  
  
He’s cut off as Tetsurou kisses him, swift and fierce, and Daichi goes weak at the knees with relief as he kisses him back.  
  
“Oh, thank fucking god,” Tetsurou breathes when they break apart, tears starting in his eyes. “Daichi, oh -”  
  
‘I’m sorry,’ Daichi half laughs, half sobs.”That it took me so long, for everything I put you through -”  
  
“I’d do it over again in a heartbeat.” Tetsurou rests their foreheads together, just like he had the night they’d first kissed. “No matter how much time you needed to heal - even if it was the absolute worst kind of torture waiting for you to come around.”  
  
Daichi laughs, the heaviness he’s carried in his heart for so long evaporating like mist in the morning sun. “You’re the one who helped me heal,” he says, hugging him tight. “Thank you.”  
  
Tetsurou kisses him again, long and sweet and thankful, the both of them swaying in the genkan, and when he pulls back he’s almost radiant with happiness. ‘Did you say _five_ years?” he says. “And here I was thinking at least fifty.”  
  
“I’m definitely not complaining,” Daichi grins. “Do you want to stay over tonight?”  
  
“Absolutely,” Tetsurou grins back, already shrugging his coat off. “So am I going to move into your place, or are you moving in with me? We can start moving stuff in the morning, there’s lots of space in the car trunk -”  
  
Daichi reaches up to kiss him again, somehow laughing and crying at the same time. “Anything,” he says against his mouth. “Anything, I don’t care. As long as you’re with me -”  
  
Tetsurou cradles his face gently, steadying him. “You’re never going to fucking get rid of me,” he murmurs, wiping his tears away.  
  
“Good,” Daichi says, closing his eyes as Tetsurou leans down again. “You’re not getting rid of me either.”  
  
Tetsurou holds him so close as he kisses him into giddiness, his hands so warm against Daichi’s wet cheeks, Daichi’s arms so tight around his waist -  
  
\- and the sound of the door slamming in Daichi’s past finally, finally fades into silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, reading my own description of their dates through the seasons: IT'S ONLY CASUAL IN UR DREAMS, DAICHI  
> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Thanks again to neko for requesting a fic with healing wounds and taking your time and learning how to move forward, working healthily through hurt and messy emotions is my absolute jam. Also ty for requesting Kuroo being a mess on their first date and stuffed cheeks Daichi, I loved writing those bits especially! Any kind of feedback is always more than welcome. You can find me [here](https://yaelathewordsmith.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr and [here](https://twitter.com/writer_yaela) on Twitter for commissions or just to say hi ^.^


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